


Three Degrees of Seperation

by Scarlet_Night



Category: Alice Isn't Dead (Podcast)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Night/pseuds/Scarlet_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reflecting on time with Alice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Degrees of Seperation

The lyrics hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m driving this damn truck and you are some place far away from me. . . or you could be in this very town, Alice. Sometimes, All I want to do is jump out of the truck and start running across the fields. But that’s scary, because sometimes I think I’ll just find you in a field pale faced and unmoving. Or better yet, in my dreams. You’ll just appear and start running towards me. In that moment I would hug you, and kiss lips and grab your cheeks. I would then wrap my arms around your waist and cry into your neck and shoulder. I imagine you’d call me one of those stupid pet names and pat my head.

 

You think the worst is a broken heart  
What’s gonna kill you is the second part  
And the third, is when our world splits down the middle  
~~And fourth, you’re gonna think you fixed yourself~~  
~~Fifth, you see them out with someone else  
~~~~And the sixth, when you admit that you may have fucked up a little~~  

 

I guess for me it’s only three degrees of separation. Well, maybe four. Four because I can’t figure out where you went, why you left me and if it was something I did wrong. Sometimes I wish the Thistle man would have just killed me because driving this truck proves too much sometimes. All I ever see are rows of cotton, and that’s haunting because you know the history of this country and all. Whenever I do break out of the haunting past all I can think about is how long it would take to pick all of that cotton.

 

Which takes me back to how long it will take to find you. I mean, it’s only been a couple weeks or so since I’ve been driving this rig, but sometimes it feels like decades. Especially a 3 A.M. Those drives are the worst. They suck because all I can think about is your smile. The way you danced in our bedroom when you got ready for work. Alice, do you remember that? Every morning, at around eight you would turn the stereo on low and start getting dressed, dancing around the room as the sun crept in through the blinds. The light would paint you in stripes of yellow. You payed the sun no mind and would steal glances at me to make sure I wasn’t waking up. But I was always awake. I liked watching you enjoy those 45 minute in the morning.

 

 

I _miss_ those mornings. 


End file.
